


Time Heals All Wounds

by GaHoolianGirl



Series: Peregrination of the Boar and the Crow [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BUT TO SAVE GIDEON'S LIFE AND HE'S SORRY AND THEY TALK ABOUT IT DW, Established Relationship, Forgiveness, He understands why Gideon did it but he's still uh not happy, Hurt/Comfort, I dunno why the tag isn't just 'Morrigan's Ritual' lol, Implied/Referenced Cheating, It's more of a mostly sweet but still bittersweet ending, It's not shown but Zevran likens it to his own sexual trauma, Its not in any sort of detail but just a warning, M/M, Oh yeah small TW Zev makes a joke about how he used to be suicidal, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Post-Dragon Age: Origins Quest - Morrigan's Ritual, Rated T for referenced smut + the ritual is treated as slight dub-con, Sweet Zevran Arainai, The first and second section are during endgame the last two are post-game, Think you've seen a fic about the ritual that sounds suspiciously similar to this, With Zevran and a Cousland named Gideon? You have! Check the first A/N, in vague terms so a warning there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Sniffling in a way that took ten years off his gruff visage, Gideon finally regained his powers of speech, "You trust me, don't you? I've not given you cause to doubt me?""Of course I do," he assured, nerves crawling up his throat, "You are the only one I trust like this, implicitly. My heart has been given freely, I hope you do not wish to return it now.""I would die a happy man if I had nothing but the clothes on my back and your love, Zevran. But I- I have done something horrible. A means to an end which I am beginning to believe is not worth it.""What could you possibly-"For what was not the first, nor would likely be the last, time, he was interrupted by his lover, who now looked at him with the same resignation as a man about to swing, "I slept with Morrigan."A remake/reimagining of my 2016 ficSlow Burning Candle.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Cousland, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Series: Peregrination of the Boar and the Crow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844182
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Time Heals All Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there once again! Almost 4 years ago to the day, I wrote a fic with this very same premise called [Slow Burning Candle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518494). It's one of my most viewed Zevran fics and for good reason imo... but even though it's aged decently well, I've always thought there was more to be done with the idea.
> 
> And so here we are, 4 years later with about 2,152 more words than last time haha. This one goes even harder on the angst, and there are a few mild trigger warnings you should check the tags for before reading. It's both a remake and reimagining (the events go in the same order and structure). Enjoy!

There was a feeling of finality in the air, and Zevran had come to the conclusion he did not like it. Of course, he had always known this journey would end, by some means, he often said as much- they all could have fallen to the darkspawn at any time, or even illness, an accident, perhaps even the poison of a different assassin.

Yet instead of meeting any of those gruesome and much more mundane ends, they were now here, on the precipice of success. 

Sadly, like many things, that was a doule edged sword. To be close to victory in a life or death struggle, one must also be close to failure. If they made one misstep, lost one too many men to these vile creatures, it would be over. Ferelden would fall, including any handsome Antivan assassins who had decided that it was worth saving.

And he had the most unfortunate timing of rediscovering his will to live recently. Shame, really. Death was much more annoying to stare in the face when you no longer wished for it.

That was, in part, what made his nerves tense at this particular moment, causing him to feel rather like a frayed rope ready to snap. He had paced about the room like a directionless chicken before growing tired of that, finally settling on sitting by the fire, staring at the flames like it held answers if he could only speak its language. In the past, he would have... found a willing partner to _relieve_ this stress, so to speak.

And he still would have, if not for the fact that his Warden was in strategy talks with Alistair and Riordan. Grey Warden business. For two hours. Nothing to be worried about.

Nothing at all.

But he couldn't deny that unfamiliar and uncomfortable concern that settled to the bottom of his stomach like the dregs of Alistair's famous stew (and which was somehow even more bitter). Riordan's face had not been cheerful when he had called for the two men. Of course the situation was far from joyous, but still- that expression was not worn by the bearer of good news.

 _Surely it's just strategy they're talking about, yes?_ he thought to himself as he watched the flames eat away at the logs, much like the Blight eats away at the land, _I need not be worried._

That assurance to himself did nothing but reaffirm his nagging worry that when Gideon came in through that door, he would have news Zevran decidedly did _not_ want to hear.

Fate decided it would not be a cruel mistress who prolonged his waiting any further this evening, as his ears immediately caught the sound of the door handle being turned from the other side. With less shame than he would have liked, he thought that he may feel more excitement for Gideon's return than even his faithful mabari ever had. 

Rising to his feet, he had a quip on his lips that died before it had even fully formed.

The assassin had seen the Warden through many harrowing battles and encounters, happened upon atrocities that would make lesser men than themselves buckle at the mere thought of them. He had seen that handsome face, with its sharp cheekbones, honey irises, and mural of scars, distort into all manner of pain and sorrow, from pity to horror to righteous fury.

But he had _never_ seen him look like _that._

Gideon's eyes, which were usually mesmerizing to look into, dulled like old iron as they gazed at the ground, staring at the stone as he refused to move in from the doorway. His posture was stiff, shoulders locked and hand shaking as he gripped the door handle for dear life. This change in demeanor, as well as the lack of the heavy armor he traditionally wore, made this normally imposing man feel downright small, vulnerable, _terrified._

"Something must have happened. With Riordan," _I knew it!_ he wanted to shout, at Gideon, himself, or the Maker he did not know; but thankfully for all of those options he refrained, "Come, sit, tell me. _Please._ "

He must have sounded desperate, and rightfully so, because he absolutely was.

The pain in his partner's tone seemed to rouse the other man, who finally released the door handle to let it fall shut behind him. With a noticeably heavy step, he marched towards the bed, finally sitting opposite of where Zevran stood so he did not have to face him.

"I'm so sorry Zevran. Maker, I'm so sorry. You don't have to forgive me."

This was said behind Gideon's broad hands hiding his face, but Zevran heard it well enough. He decided that he would not play this game of indirectness, not tonight. He climbed on the bed to more quickly travel to Gideon's side, prying his hands away with force he would most likely later regret.

Scratch that, because his regret was immediately felt; Gideon, the indomitable, unbreakable wall of a man, was _crying._

"Why are you-" some master of words he was, balking at the sight of his beloved's tears. Unable to finish his words of concern and feeling immeasurable guilt for it, all Zevran could do was wipe them away and wait for the other to speak.

Sniffling in a way that took ten years off his gruff visage, Gideon finally regained his powers of speech, "You trust me, don't you? I've not given you cause to doubt me?"

"Of course I do," he assured, nerves crawling up his throat, "You are the only one I trust like this, implicitly. My heart has been given freely, I hope you do not wish to return it now."

"I would die a happy man if I had nothing but the clothes on my back and your love, Zevran. But I- I have done something horrible. A means to an end which I am beginning to believe is not worth it."

"What could you possibly-"

For what was not the first, nor would likely be the last, time, he was interrupted by his lover, who now looked at him with the same resignation as a man about to swing, "I slept with Morrigan."

Maker take him, allow a hole to the Deep Roads to open beneath his feet so he didn't have to wait until daybreak to be eaten by darkspawn.

Even just weeks ago, he wouldn't have cared to hear that the other had taken another partner.

...that was a lie, he would have cared. For quite a while, longer than he wanted to admit, he would have cared. But he wouldn't have necessarily blamed Gideon. He had made no claims to the man, the thread between them was held loosely, ready to be released at a moment's notice. Then, he had ensured their relationship did not go so deep as to make the Warden think his ship only had one harbour.

But now.

Now, he has thought- had been led to believe- that he had become Gideon's home, just as he had become Zevran's.

"I know the _why_ doesn't matter, but if you walk out this door and never speak to me again, I need you to know this-" with a deep, shuddering breath, Gideon once more held his head high, brushing away any remaining tears, "To slay an archdemon, a Grey Warden has to go down with it. The blasted thing can't just die by the hands of someone other than a Warden... its soul will jump to the nearest darkspawn, and the Blight will continue, unending. But if it is done in by a Warden, it will attempt to possess them- and fail, taking the Warden with it."

He opened his fist, staring down at his calloused and scarred palms. The imprint of his sword, lines marked into his skin from his metal gauntlets, they were the hands of a warrior through and through. Zevran knew them well, pressed against his cheek, running down his back to soothe, held in his own.

"That very well could have been me. If Riordan falls... it can't be Alistair, not with Ferelden weakened as it is. It would _have_ to be me."

For the moment, his horror at Gideon's confession made way for fury, for the idea of infidelity paled to the idea of a world without his Warden in it, "Why did you not tell me this? When I asked if we had a _future?_ Was your intent to toy with me, then?"

"Maker no, never!" shouting at the volume he was, Gideon's voice was raw, making it clear that he had been crying for far longer than he had been in Zevran's presence this evening, "I had no idea until but two hours ago! I would have never promised you a future I did not fully intend to see through. When I said those things, I meant them. More than anything I'd said before. When I see my future, I see _you._ "

"Then why did you..." It hurt. It hurt like a knife to his head, neck, and stomach all at once. To have let sentiment in, to have let Gideon tear down the walls he had put up stone by stone only to have them thrown back in his face like this.

Sighing, Gideon ground the heel of his left arm, his bad arm, into his eye, "Morrigan told me that she knew of a ritual. Where if she... came together, with a Grey Warden, she would bare a child, that would take on the Archdemon's soul in the place of the Grey Warden. I was going to say no, to place my faith in Riordan, but she- she-"

"What did she tell you?" Zevran had come to know Morrigan well, on this journey of theirs, and her words could be sharper than any dagger, if she so chose to wield them that way.

"She brought up. _You._ That gambling with my own life was not just about myself anymore. And in that moment I _hated_ her for it, because that got me to do it. The thought of never seeing you again. To make you feel that loss again. I would rather you hate me than do that to you," grinding his teeth so hard he could mill flour, Gideon cast his eyes downwards once more, wobbly tone making it clear he was fighting back tears yet again, "But it'd be unfair of me to say this is your fault; it isn't. It was my own stupid, selfish choice. I chose my life over your trust."

Ah.

_Ah._

With that admission, Zevran's heart finally stilled, and his head filled with clarity once more. He couldn't completely cleanse his throat of the bile that had risen, shrug off the pain he had felt, but now he understood. 

With a gentle, if unsteady hand, Zevran reached out to hold Gideon's chin and guide his gaze back back to meet his lover's, "You greatly underestimate what that life means to me, my dear Warden. The mortal need to survive, even against one's better judgement, is strong, I know this well. You are not a monster for wanting to survive. Yes, I may have preferred if you _told_ me before you did so, I will not deny, but I will not condemn you for this."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"Unfortunately, that is not a choice for you to make. My forgiveness is me to give out at my discretion, and I give it to you now. I have slept with many before we met, and you were no blushing virgin yourself," his joke, weak though it was, did elicit the ghost of a laugh from Gideon, "So adding one more to the list will not shake my faith in you. And knowing you did so, against your will, simply to survive... I can understand that feeling. It is not pleasant, and it will haunt you. But it will not haunt you alone."

"Zevran!!"

Unable to contain himself, Gideon threw his arms around Zevran, squeezing him lighter than the assassin can ever recall being held, "When I walked in that door I expected to be hated. Your whole life you've been treated like your boundaries, your trust, don't matter. And I felt vile, like I had done that very same thing I cursed others for doing. I felt no better than them."

Pulling back enough that he could caress Gideon's cheeks, thumbs running over his scars lovingly, Zevran shook his head, "Do not ever compare yourself to the Crows. You have cut my shackles, not become a new pair. I may be upset now, but in the years to come, I will not remember this. I will only know the," his throat clenched at the word, but he pushed past that trepidation with all his might, "The love you have given me. The joy. The tears. And perhaps the pain, but only the fun kind."

Gideon could not help but laugh at the innuendo, finally smiling his famously charming half smile. His eyes were wet, and there was an unflattering bit of snot running from his nose, but anything was preferable to what he had walked in here looking like, "Thank you, love. I don't deserve you, but then again, I don't think anyone really could."

"How funny, I would say the very same thing about you, mi amor."

"What a pair we make," Gideon, voice full of relief, suddenly seemed tired to his very core. Luckily enough, his exchange had exhausted Zevran himself, and they had quite the march ahead of them tomorrow.

"Bed?" he asked, one word question met with an enthusiastic nod. Normally, they both had a rather lengthy nighttime ritual, involving disrobing, bathing, chatting, and so forth, but tonight they just fell back onto the bed, refusing to leave the embrace they had been in. 

To say they were each other's only concern in the world at the moment would be false; more accurately, they decided that until they awoke the next morning to finally face the Archdemon, all their other cares beside one another could simply wait. 

Right now, all they needed was the sound of their beloved's heart beat, and a good night's rest.

* * *

Killing was an act Zevran needn't think about too closely. It was very much a second nature to him, made even easier by the mindless nature of the darkspawn they fought. His blades sliced through their flesh with ease, which left his mind mostly free.

This was not a good thing.

It allowed him to easily hone in on Gideon, leaping into action to shove a greatsword (adrenaline allowing him to push past the limitation put upon him by his by his past injures) into the skull of the archdemon, the accompanying crack and screech of pain unignorable by any, mortal or darkspawn.

 **_To slay an archdemon, a Grey Warden has to go down with it,_ ** the unhelpful voice of his subconscious reminded him of Gideon's words last night.

 _No, he shall live!_

**_To slay an archdemon, a Grey Warden has to go down with it._ **

His mind could no longer fight with itself as a great beam of light overtook the arena, blinding him along with everyone they fought alongside. As his eyes shut, he could hear his lover whisper into his ear, as he did as they fell asleep last night, _I love you, I love you so much, Zevran. Maker above, I love you._

Almost like-

Like he was saying _goodbye._

When he opened his eyes, and the dust had settled, the collective, innumerable cheers of a victorious army rang in his ears like thunder, but he ignored them, tossing his blades to the floor and running at top speed towards the still, lifele- _unconscious_ body of his Warden.

"Please, do not be dead, please, _please-!_ "

He came crashing to the ground, knees skidding across stone and probably peeling back his skin in a way he'd manage to find painful later. Now, however, all he could focus on was the shallow breathing of Gideon, so shallow he feared he was imagining that.

"Please, please, my Warden, Gideon, mi amor, please..." his voice rose like a bird taking flight only to be quickly shot down by an arrant arrow, "Please..."

Fate yet again decided to bestow mercy upon Zevran Arainai, its most beloved and most abandoned subject. 

Gideon's eyes slowly opened, one then the other, until his foggy gaze met Zevran's.

"We... did it. Zev... ran."

There were things to be said, jokes to be made, medical attention to be sought, but all Zevran could do now was dive in for a kiss, dry lips meeting dry lips, an (honestly very gross, considering the state they were in) affirmation that _yes_ , they were both alive.

* * *

"So Morrigan is gone, then? I expected that."

When they managed to find their way back down to the gates of the city, Gideon leaning on Zevran for support, Alistair approached them with the news that Morrigan was nowhere to be found (and unsurprisingly, he didn't sound particularly heartbroken), and that Leliana had seen what they believed to be her taking off in the form of a bird.

Gideon looked up to the sky after being told this, and Zevran did the same.

_She is with child. Gideon's child. Not truly human, but his all the same._

Did he hate Morrigan now? Even he did not know. He had been right, many months ago, when he accused her of having her own, separate plans for the Wardens, but those plans had involved saving the life of the one he loved most. And despite the unsavory nature of how she fulfilled those ends, he knew enough to see that she was not solely motivated by greed.

She also wanted to save Gideon's life, even if he hated her for it.

Where had he heard that before?

So resent? Yes. Hate? Not truly. 

However, it was not his feelings on the woman that mattered. It was not his body that was used, his affairs that were utilized to manipulate him. Zevran would go by any judgement Gideon levied upon her, that was his final stance.

"Let us go, then," Gideon finally spoke, "We all need our wounds attended to, and then we should all regroup at the palace, if it's still standing."

They all dutifully followed his command as usual, ignoring the caw of a crow in the distance.

* * *

"I'm sorry to bring this up again," Gideon's voice was full of hesitation as they lay together in bed that night, him running a hand through Zevran's hair as the other traced his scars, as had become his habit, "I just still have a hard time believing you forgave me like that."

The night was dark and peaceful, almost feeling like an insult compared to what they had experienced over the course of the previous months. Smiling in a way reserved only for the man before him, the assassin shook his head, "I will not deny that I am hurt, my dear Warden. How could I not be? But beyond all that, what matters far more to me is that you are alive. We both are. Time heals all wounds, or so they say."

Sighing, Gideon pulled his beloved tight against his chest, breathing in deeply. Zevran knew his partner adored the faint smell of honey to his hair, and would admit to no one that he put a bit more in than he had in the past to please him, "You... I love you. So much. And I'll do whatever is in my power to ensure that I never hurt you like that again."

That promise lit a fire in Zevran's chest- well rather stoked the flame that Gideon had ignited long ago, "I will hold you too that, mi amor. But enough talk of unpleasant things. In fact..."

Craning his neck up slightly, their lips met with a kiss that was not chaste for very long, full of promise and invitation, "Let us do something far more pleasant, yes? We shall forget all about the witch, and just about everything else besides each other."

"Ha!" Gideon pulled Zevran atop him, kissing his assassin's neck with painful gentleness, "That's not a bad idea at all. You are my favorite thing to think of, in fact."

"I was just going to say the same thing, my dear."

As they passed the night away in each other's embrace, doing their damndest to replace all sensation with passion, the last thought (not related to the body of his lover) Zevran had was praising and cursing Morrigan in equal measure.

_You do not have my forgiveness, my dear swamp witch, but you do have my thanks.•_

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! I hope I didn't give off the impression I don't like Morrigan, I definitely do, but unfortunately depending on what choices you pick leading up to the ritual it can make the consent feel a little... coerced. 
> 
> And just like the first time, a bit if a bittersweet ending because this situation really lacks a satisfying resolution, which is what makes it interesting imo.


End file.
